The Man of Mystic Falls
by KivaJayelle
Summary: Bonnie is manipulated into helping with a photoshoot involving Damon as a subject. Adult content.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Many thanks to PiecesofEight and voilawriter for their awesome beta'ing and encouragement! I don't own VD.**

The Man of Mystic Falls

Bonnie couldn't _believe_ she let Elena talk her into cramming in make-up and lighting for this last minute photo shoot! Granted, 'The Men of Mystic Falls' calendar had gone viral over the years and had become an internationally bestselling fundraiser for the town's worthy causes, but she'd long ago left behind her days of beautifying the spoiled, adored and rich for far more intellectually satisfying pursuits. She was quite happy making a living as a respected biochemist, shuttling back and forth between her Duke and NHI labs at will. However, this _particular _subject, not to mention the Founder's Council, staunchly refused any and all offers of the best and most _au courant_makeup artists, wanting to keep the resources local.

Resigned to her commitment, she parked her car in front of the Salvatore boarding house, steeling herself against any possible confrontations with the ever-wily Damon. Famon _would be more like it_, she said to herself, mentally scrolling through some of the covers of entertainment magazines and tabloids he'd graced since she'd moved away from Mystic Falls a decade ago, leaving its vampires, magic and mayhem behind. He'd always been a playboy of sorts, but in the age of the 24-hour news cycle, he'd made quite the media whore of himself. From what Elena recounted about him via email, phone calls and visits, he was all but de-fanged, choosing to sip from starlets and celebutants, opting to wipe their memories instead of killing them outright. _Which makes absolutely_no _sense. If anyone deserved to be offed, it should be those damned aimless, vacant-headed bimbos he'd attached himself to with barnacle-like, disturbing regularity._

The killing hadn't altogether stopped, Damon was just more discriminating with his kills, Elena relayed. He traveled farther afield for his prey, and did _research_ of all things, preferring to hunt and chase down the predators of the human populace. Apparently, there was a special place in his appetite for the child predators of the world.

"So...Damon's become something like a fanged-up 'Dexter'?" she thought, recalling a long ago conversation, laughing at the news.

"Yeah," Elena chuckled. "He's even a consultant with the F.B.I. They send him their most perplexing cases with little to no leads or evidence and he goes hunting. He gets results, the crimes stop and they ask no questions. There are at least a half dozen commendations gathering dust around here somewhere."

"Unbelievable," she whispered, eyeing the house balefully bringing herself back to the present. Shaking herself of her disdain and wrapping herself in a cloak of resolve, Bonnie told herself, "I'll just treat him like any other client I've had and hopefully, he won't want to re-hash any of the bad old times." Getting out of the car, she hefted her suitcases of equipment out of her trunk and rolled them towards the entrance of the manse.

She was met at the door by Elena and Stefan, who were oddly toting their own rolling cases.

"Hey guys!" she greeted, hugging the beaming couple. "You two heading out?" she frowned.

Grinning at each other, Elena broke off looking at Stefan. "Yeah, it's sort of last-minute. We're gonna spend a few days at Shenandoah, check out the wineries and the fall foliage."

Bonnie, narrowed her eyes. "Leaf-peeping? Really Elena, I'd expect it from Stefan, but you seem a bit too enthusiastic about it." Pointing a delicate finger at her girlfriend, she stated, "You and the outdoors go together like, well vampires and sunlight…er, without the benefit of spelled rings," she waggled her fingers at her for effect.

Stefan ducked to carry her cases into the foyer, as Bonnie smiled in gratitude. "There's a new spa there that Elena's been wanting to try out. Give and take and all that, Bonnie. Damon's waiting in the den, by the way."

Unconvinced, she drawled slowly. "Uh-huh. Y'all are just gonna abandon me with him. You _know_we're still beefing, over the last skirmish we had, right? I can't believe you two. _No_ sweet potato pie for either of you next month when I come home for Thanksgiving!"

"But, Bonnie-," they protested.

Hoping to deflect her friend's ire away from herself and her mate, Elena grinned. "It's not like you can't just zap him if he gets out of hand. Not that he will, though." she promised, crossing fingers behind her back at the white lie. _If all goes as it should,_Elena mused, _Damon and Bonnie will get__**ridiculously**__out of hand._

"Just what is it that you think you're trying to accomplish? Did you rig hidden cameras to catch a Bonnie/Damon Smack-down to laugh about over the holidays? It's bad enough that I have to handle him while he's practically naked." She shook her head, tousling her messy, nearly waist length curls. "Nevermind, don't wanna hear it. You two enjoy your trip," she said, giving them a parting kiss and wave.

"And the pie, Bonnie?" Stefan said, turning and giving her his version of puppy eyes.

She laughed out loud as they retreated, packing their vehicle. "Still on the menu. But Damon gets out of hand, then I'll be carving _him_ up instead of my usual bacon-wrapped turkey."

"Understood," he said, bowing deeply from his waist.

"Courtly bastard," she muttered underneath her breath as he turned and strolled to their vehicle, unaware of the devious smile on his face.

Bonnie watched them hop into a new, dark SUV. The disgustingly happy duo waved and beeped as they drove away.

She sighed. "Well, that's just great." Blowing out a breath, she turned, walking through the open doorway.

Making her way through the yawning foyer with her cases rolling behind her, Bonnie headed towards the den. A massive fireplace, big enough to drive a Prius through, took up one wall of the room. It emanated a cheery, warm fire, and lent complementary light to the furnishings, much of which had been pushed aside to accommodate lighting, staff and other equipment.

In one of the cleared spaces of the sizable room, Damon stood, no, _danced_ with his back to her, clad in low slung black silk drawstring pajama pants and a matching unbuttoned shirts, seemingly unaware of her presence. Bonnie closed her eyes, inhaled then let it out slowly, Buddha breathing from her abdomen.

Gathering her scattered wits about her, Bonnie began to feel a restorative sense of balance and calm, she started opening her cases, taking out the various implements of her former trade. Reviewing the call sheet, she noted that the photographer was shooting Damon for a winter month, his pale flesh was not an issue. She sent up a word of thanks to TPTB that she wouldn't have to be bronzing his entire body. Once she was set up, she turned back to her dancing subject. _Yep, _she thought, _Damon's__**definitely**__a winter._

Now, he gyrated undulating his hips in sensual movements, mimicking a nice, long and slow…_Fuck!_ She cursed inwardly. She nearly sank to her knees to beg for mercy, when he began to sing, putting Greg Dulli's sensual voice to shame.

_Pull it together, Bonnie!_ She admonished herself harshly. Taking hold of her breathing techniques, she once again entered a state of peace. Schooling her features to a study in ennui, she cleared her throat to get his attention.

No response. Just the continued, teasing ebb and flow of his hips.

"Damon!" Nothing.

"DAMON!"

Slowly, he gyrated around, revealing an iPod complete with noise-cancelling ear buds plugged in. _Damn, Bonnie, you look good._The desire he'd been feeling for her still hummed pleasantly in his bloodstream, like an unidentifiable white noise; not enough to annoy but present enough to acknowledge, yet go on with life. He's wanted her for years, but hadn't felt a pressing need to act on it until this evening.

He smiled, full lips parting to reveal that predatory grin. Silkily, he drawled, "Hello, my witch," he said dialing the volume down with.

"_Not_ your witch. Besides, those days are behind me," she shot back.

"My bitch, then?" he asked cocking an eyebrow skyward.

Not about to be bated when he was barely dressed, she drew upon her professional manner, which got her through not only her doctoral dissertation, but bratty photography subjects, she plastered a fake smile on her face. "Let's get started. The shoot's in two hours and we've got to get you done."

"And you're STILL a buzzkill after all these years," he growled, dismissing her and making a show of turning up the volume in his ears.

"Hey, _you and the Council_ are the folks who asked me to rearrange my schedule and do this! Show some gratitude."

Smirking, he cooed, "Oh, I've got all the gratitude you'll ever need, baby…in my pants."

"Ass! Everything is always a game to you."

Damon spread his arms wide and smiled knowingly. "The world is my play space."

Bonnie spared him an acknowledging nod, shed her jacket and retrieved a clip to secure her errant curls, winding them around her head.

Grabbing her hands free device, she placed it about her head, expecting calls from the NIH lab and her newly-separated girlfriend, Petra, who called as the mood struck her to gripe in equal parts about the evils and deliciousness of men.

She moved about the room, testing the light with a light measure and set up various lights at different intervals throughout the space.

Bonnie shook out a plastic tarp from her kit and draped it over the floor, retrieved a nearby folding canvas chair and centered it on the tarp. Absently toeing off her shoes, she motioned for Damon to sit. He complied, still swaying, trying to catch her eye, as she shifted about the room.

"I'm going to start on your face," she murmured, hauling her huge trunk of a makeup case next to where he was seated.

Taking his face into her hands, she studied the planes of his face, struggling to avoid the hypnotic pull of his eyes. _I think this is the first time I've ever touched his face, if you don't count the many times I've smacked it or tried to punch out his lights. _She suddenly reared back, removing her hands and casted about for her light meter and a digital camera she kept handy.

"I think I've been summoned here on a fool's errand," she muttered, alternately taking measurements and snapping photos. "There's really nothing in or on your face which can be improved upon nor enhanced by cosmetics."

"Gotcha!" Damon shot out of his chair, pumping his fists in triumph.

Turning away from him to scrutinize some of her shots, she paused. "Oh, I see now. I just need to add a few strokes of color, so all that paleness of yours isn't washed out in the photos. The firelight totally helps."

"Lemme see that," he said, snatching up the camera. "Oh, well. Look at that."

"Just how much of you is staying covered for this shoot, anyway?" she inquired, snatching up blusher to apply to his face.

"Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie. All you had to do to see me naked was ask."

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Down, boy! I just want to get a sense for how much color we'll need to give you a healthy glow, freakbait."

Narrowing his eyes at her, he tossed her camera back to her, "Freak- Never mind. Photographer wants to start with the black shirt unbuttoned, then off, leaving me in nothing but the pants and my irresistible smile."

"Fine. Off with the shirt, then. I may need to pull out the heavy artillery to get a camera to catch your torso's definition. Hope you've laid off the Snickers and soccer moms." She quipped, snapping more pics of his upper body.

Blowing out a breath, as he shed his shirt, draping it on the back of the canvas chair. "I haven't had a tasty soccer mom in _ages_!"

"Good for you. Hold still, we may be a while at this."

"Tell you what cupcake. You go to work and I'm going back to the music. Stick around after you're done and I'll feed you-" she held a hand up to shush him as she picked up a call on her phone. He rolled his eyes and plugged his phones back in. He purposely kept the volume on low, so that he could better listen in on her conversation.

"This is Dr. Bennett." Bonnie answered, pulling out cosmetic paints to apply to Damon's body. "Hi, Chuck! Please tell me that dehydration synthesis has occurred in my proteins for sample U-417…Well, did the antibodies bond to it at least? …There's something, then. Try the process again and we'll give it another 72 hours and see what happens."

_Chuck, Chuck. Oh, right. Fellow lab rat. Gay guy with a boyfriend named after some branch of Mathematics._Damon allowed himself a small relieved intake of breath.

"Yep. Uh-huh. Right. You're a doll! Say 'hi' to Trigg for me. 'Night," Bonnie said, signing off with Chuck.

Bonnie began to lose herself in her work and in admiration for Damon's form. She used delicate brushstrokes, applying dark shadows to his pectorals, exaggerating the definition of his chest. She sighed unconsciously, her face a mere whisper away from his flesh as she alternately used featherlike strokes of the brush and shaded and blended with her fingertips.

_It's criminal that such an aggravating ass should be so damned mouth-wateringly beautiful. A demon and an angel all wrapped in this delicious package could make even the most chaste woman wantonly surrender up any and all things to the care and feeding of Damon._

Another call came in to Bonnie's phone. Quickly activating her headset, she greeted her friend.

"Hey, Pet'," she greeted in low tones.

_Who the fuck is she calling 'Pet'?_ Damon growled internally.

"No, I think the question is, 'what are _you_ wearing, honey'," she smiled.

_You've got to be fuckin' kidding me. I should crush her phone and take her over my knee! I- Oh, Jesus…_

Moving on to work the skin encasing his abdomen, she sank to her knees in front of him, unaware of the tantalizing picture she made for Damon. She blew gently now and again to get rid of the excess shadowing. Occasionally, Bonnie would lean back to survey her work before moving in again to perfect the effects of the cosmetics.

_This witch is killing me with all her rubbing and blowing. I can't wait to have that delicious mouth on my skin, my nipples… my cock._

"Girl, I'm working." "Huh? Yeah, the cosmo job for the calendar." "Uh-huh, Damon," she breathed.

_Oh, good, it's her_girlfriend_, Petra._ Damon thought, smirking inwardly. _I won't have to go in search of and snap the neck of some unknown lover._

Bonnie, before responding to a query from Petra, glanced up at Damon, who quickly schooled his features in an attempt to make it seem as though he was lost in his music and unaware of her speaking, answered her friend, a whimsical smile tugging at her lips.

"Yeah, he's still as smokin' hot as ever. I would have taken him for a test drive years ago, but there's only so much hubris and bullshit a girl can take. Plus, he'd _never_let me live down the fact that he'd slept with me. Not that he'd _want_to what with the whole Elena/Katherine debacle or any-female-with-a-pulse-and-operable-pussy on the menu."

Damon warmed at the thought that Bonnie found him attractive and felt the stirrings of arousal as his cock lengthened._The question is: who__**wouldn't**__find me attractive? Also, Doctor Witch, I've been over Elena and Katherine for some years now. And I take umbrage to that whole 'any female' comment._

"HELL no, he's insufferable!" she exclaimed, tugging him back to her conversation with Petra. "We're damned-near family, too. You definitely don't shit where you eat, especially not where Damon is concerned. Then there's that whole 'he tried to kill me once' issue. And I'm not into being cast aside once I've thrown down my card. Besides, he doesn't want me like that anyway, so it's a moot point."

_Card?_ Damon thought. _What c…get the fuck out!_ Damon grew instantly rock-hard, barely suppressing a growl of possessive satisfaction. He looked down, studying her incredulously. _She's still a virgin? What kind of pussified men are running around Raleigh, Durham and D.C.?_

As Bonnie reached his mid-section, she came to the shocking realization that Damon's cock was hard and protruding, making a tent in the dark silk of his pants.

_Son of a…_"Any port in a storm…" Bonnie muttered underneath her breath.

Her face, turning the hue of a caramel-coated Macintosh apple, she stood abruptly and turned to retrieve something. Approaching a nonchalant Damon, Bonnie began wrapping her arms about his waist, encasing his hips in a stiff and heavy canvas apron. _That should do it._

_Damn._Damon thought. _I may just have to take a more direct route to getting her clothes off._

"W-what did you say, Petra?"

"No, I had to take care of something," she replied drolly.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "That. I don't know what it is with guys and getting body makeup, massage therapy or the wind kicking up from the south that gives them all wood all the damned time. This is partly why I gave this career up. Lab rats don't have the perpetual wood problem and if they did, I wouldn't know about it because we're usually wearing lab gear."

Petra asked yet another probing question, spurring Bonnie to glance again at him. _Good and clueless, just how I like him._

Speaking in a low voice, Bonnie relayed, "Yep, as far as I know, the spell's still holding. I'm a null as far as he's concerned. No, it'll remain in place as long as I don't reveal it. Nope, not until I tell him and per usual, Damon's so self-absorbed he can't hear a thing."

Damon felt a small pressure 'pop' in the atmosphere around him and his senses were set ablaze. He looked down at Bonnie and realized that she was so hot, she was damned-near flirting with a fever. He could literally feel and see the heat coming off of her in waves. Damon heard the blood sing in her veins. Her eyes shone more intensely coppery-green and her hair was lustrous. And her smell…

_Sweet JESUS, she smells so delectable. I'm going to eat her alive._

He could smell everything about her. The shampoo in her hair, her subtle yet expensive perfume. Most of all, he was damn near felled by the scent of her desire. His mouth literally watered in anticipation of learning what she tasted like everywhere.

Realization hit Damon like a truck.

_That tricky witch!_

A tic began to hammer on the side of Damon's jaw line as he stared blatantly at Bonnie. He was beyond irritated, intrigued, shocked and horny as hell for the witch and vowed to fully sate his appetite for her before the sun rose.

"Enough about me, what's new with you?" he dimly heard Bonnie ask.

Damon removed the ear buds, tossing it and his iPod aside. Sizing her up like a predator after prey, he gently grasped her face with one hand, pinning her with his heated ice-blue gaze and removed her phone.

Bonnie sputtered, trying to flick him away, "Damon, what the f-"

Speaking into the receiver, he said "Thank you, Petra. Bonnie will talk to you tomorrow."

Never breaking eye-contact with Bonnie, he clicked off, but not before his sensitive ears heard tinny peals of good-natured laughter coming out of the phone, along with the firm admonishment, "Play nice, Damon."

Dropping Bonnie's phone to the tarp, he cradled her face which was trapped in his hands, he stood over her kneeled form and demanded, "How long?"

Bonnie searched his face, highly confused yet slightly alarmed. "How long what?"

"How long have you been holding out on me? On **us**? How long have you had this spell up and running?"

"Damon-" she began to backpedal. _Oh, shit! That sneaky, eavesdropping fucker!_

In a deceptively calm voice, he said, "Answer me, Bonnie."

Bonnie acquiesced, breathing out, "Ten years."

Damon's expression grew thunderous. "I have a general idea about what this spell does, but humor me and let me hear it from your own treacherous lips," he demanded, ripping Bonnie's makeshift cockblock-cum canvas-chastity-belt from about his waist. He felt like he had to busy his hands with a task before he wrapped his around her to throttle her. Casting his eyes about the room, he seized on a package of wipes and began to remove the makeup from his body.

An explanation nervously tumbled from her lips. "The spell has two parts. One part, directed at the target, namely you, sort of has a dampening effect on the senses of that individual when ever in the presence of the focus, me, of the second part. You just don't experience my physical presence as strongly. Your heightened vampire sense of me is dulled to be like that of any other human."

Damon's expression darkened, as he seethed. "Why?"

Bonnie flung her arms out, gesticulating exasperation, and rose to her feet to face him. "Because I don't want to sleep with you and be just another nameless, faceless body in your list of conquests. Because there is just too much history between our families. Because I saw what you and Elena and Stefan went through because of your obsession with Katherine. Because I want to be able to continue to come home to visit and be able to hold my head up without shame or have you treat me with that same callous indifference you showed to Caroline. Because I never wanted to have to try to resist you, fail miserably, only to wake up with you gone or staring at me with that omniscient smirk on your face."

Bonnie bowed her head, avoiding his eyes and whispered. "My body may want you, but my head, heart and gut screams 'No.'"

Damon's eyes closed, his face in what looked like a pained grimace. Opening his eyes slowly, he directed a heavy-lidded stare at her. In low tones, "Do you know how much I'm fighting between ripping your clothes off and taking you over my knee for the spanking you so VERY much deserve or ripping your clothes off and sinking myself so deep into you that a thousand of your cleansing baths could never rid you of my claim?"

Bonnie looked up into his face, nearly shouting, "Damn you, Damon! This is EXACTLY the reason for this spell. I had to protect myself! Don't you get that?"

Damon reached out, closing the distance between them, skimming the smooth perfection of the skin of her face with the back of one hand. "No. Bonnie. You owe me this. We should have had the ten years. After Katherine's return, I began to understand my obsession and made peace with it. Some part of me has always watched you, wondered and wanted you, but you seemed so immune and indifferent. I've always wanted you, above and beyond any spell you could cast."

Bonnie instantly played back in her mind all those times she'd been alone with Damon and he never tried to take advantage of her or kill her. She recalled all the moments when she'd bested him verbally and he not once struck out in violence. Bonnie's memory flitted through those odd moments of tenderness and affection he'd shown her: an ancient ceremonial knife for her 18th birthday, helping her unpack her dorm on her first day of college, chaperoning her on her 21st so that no harm befell her, the ridiculously expensive jewelry left for her 'anonymously' when she graduated high school, undergrad, then graduate school. Musing, she'd fondly recalled the snarkily terse note once she'd earned her doctorate: 'Enough with the fucking schooling, witch! The family vault's running low on baubles. I may have to drain someone just to keep you in jewels.' She remembered the many meals he'd cooked for her, the thoughtful takeout or comfort food he brought when she was sick. 'Not that I actually _care_, I just need you hale and hearty to work this spell for me.'

"Damon, please don't," she begged with her mouth, but she leaned into his stroking of her face, like a cat craving her master's caressing affection.

Damon closed his eyes, hissing on an inhalation of breath. "You smell so goddamned GOOD, Bonnie," he groaned.

Everything in Bonnie began to thaw, soften and melt. She tried to put up her mental shields and protested.

"Damon, the crew and the photographer-"

"Aren't coming. The actual shoot isn't until next month."

_Damn._

She looked at him. "Stefan and Elena-"

"…were in on this, too." He smirked. "Apparently the email correspondence between Elena and Petra has been fast and furious."

"I don't understand how they figured it out. Petra's been under a geis not to speak to anyone about the spell except me…"

"Wait for it…"

"Dammit!" she sighed in realization.

"That didn't hurt your pride too badly, did it?" Damon grinned in satisfaction.

Bonnie gave him a frowning side-eye, "Still not letting you talk me into this, Damon."

"I crave you and you're not leaving my bed for at least a week." He countered.

"I'm not going to let you do this."

Damon stopped touching her face grabbed her upper arms in his hands, giving her a little shake. Eyeing her fiercely he said heatedly, "You had no right to do this to me, Bonnie. This bill has come due."

"I owe you nothing, Damon!" she snarled, trying to pull away from him.

"And my Bonnie is _wrong_ yet again. You owe me ten _years_, woman! And you're forgetting I'm a damned predator: I take what I want, when I want. What I want is you," he said decisively.

Ominous silence stretched between them as they stared at each other waiting to see whose will would crumble first.

Suddenly, he released his hold on her, giving her a light shove away from himself. Tilting his head sideways, he changed tactics, eyeing her knowingly. "Alright. You can walk out of here tonight on one condition."

"Name it." Bonnie parried, squaring her shoulders, spirits lifting in anticipation of getting away from Damon.

"Panties."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to RockerChick08, for being my 'first'! Many thanks to all of you who have reviewed! Hope this final part meets your expectations.**

**If you haven't listened to Lo Fidelity Allstars' "Somebody Needs You" featuring Greg Dulli's crooning and growling, give that a listen; it'll make you wanna…wanna. In addition, give the Terri Gibbs' tune a spin, too.**

* * *

_Damon stopped touching her face grabbed her upper arms in his hands, giving her a little shake. Eyeing her fiercely he said heatedly, "You had no right to do this to me, Bonnie. This bill has come due."_

_"I owe you nothing, Damon!" she snarled, trying to pull away from him._

_"And my Bonnie is wrong yet again. You owe me ten years, woman! And you're forgetting I'm a damned predator: I take what I want, when I want. What I want is you," he said decisively._

_Ominous silence stretched between them as they stared at each other waiting to see whose will would crumble first._

_Suddenly, he released his hold on her, giving her a light shove away from himself. Tilting his head sideways, he changed tactics, eyeing her knowingly. "Alright. You can walk out of here tonight on one condition."_

_"Name it." Bonnie parried, squaring her shoulders, spirits lifting in anticipation of getting away from Damon._

_"Panties."_

Bonnie swallowed air down the wrong pipe, coughed to get herself under control and asked, "What?"

Damon gave a self-satisfied grin. "Take yours off and give them to me, or I come inspect them myself. If they're dry, you can walk out of here and the next time we meet, we'll continue on as if the spell is still in effect. If they're wet…"

Eyes widening in ever increasing dread, Bonnie asked, "What?"

"You come with me, upstairs; then, you _come_ with me."

As she slowly backed away from him, towards the entrance of the room, he tracked her, matching her movements. "Oh, _hell_ no!" she exclaimed frantically.

"Funny, I never took you for chicken, Bonnie."

Once again, Bonnie was assailed by memories of Damon goading her into action to conquer irrational fears or to just experience life. He'd never _not_ been able to persuade her in any instance.

Not once.

_Well, it's not like I've been holding out for anyone _but _him anyway. C'mon Bonnie, take the plunge! Put on your big girl panties...or, take them off!_

Taking a deep cleansing breath, she bowed her head in defeat. Bonnie reached up, releasing her hair from its confines. Casting the clip aside, she raised her eyes to his in challenge.

"Come and get me, Damon."

His answering grin was triumphant, like watching the sun break through clouds.

"My pleasure, _madamoiselle_."

Bonnie barely blinked before he was a breath away from her, pinning her body against a nearby wall. Tucking a finger under her chin, he lifted her face until her eyes met his. She licked her bottom lip nervously.

Damon whispered, "Invite me in, Bonnie. Ask me to kiss you."

Damon waited, reveling in the way he could now hear and feel her body's reaction to his words, his touch. He doubted he'd be able to hold out for her permission when she finally answered.

"Please kiss me, Damon."

Damon gathered her in his arms, lacing a hand through her hair and his other about her waist, bringing her flush against his body, his erection pressed against her belly. He slanted his devilishly full lips across Bonnie's mouth. _Her mouth's so soft. She smells so good. And her taste-_

Damon touched his tongue to her bottom lip, Bonnie moaned, opening her mouth to his touch and exploration. At the same time, her hands threaded through the impossibly soft silk of his hair. In all his years and experience of kissing, he'd learned to sweep in to conquer, not entreat.

_Always better to seek forgiveness than to ask for permission, _was his idle musing thought.

His tongue swept hers, coaxing her into playing with his. Bonnie mewling in encouragement, spurred Damon to shift his hand from her waist to her ass. He molded and caressed her and deepened his kiss.

Bonnie, so rattled by his kisses she'd forgotten to properly breathe, tore herself from his mouth, fighting to draw air into her lungs. She braced her hands on his upper arms.

"Damon, we don't have to-"

"Yes, Bonnie. We really do have to," he countered in a determined tone.

She leaned her head back and he moved into to lave her neck with kisses, caresses of his tongue and small nibbles.

His hand released her ass, ghosting about her to the opening of her jeans. Flicking them open quickly, his fingers skimmed down the soft skin of her belly to the juncture between her legs. The cotton crotch of her panties was soaked.

Smilingly into the column of her neck, he whispered fiercely in her ear, "You're damned near dripping for me, Bonnie."

He lifted his head to look into her face. "You're so hot for me and you waited all this time? How did you manage?"

Bonnie's felt her face grow warm under his scrutiny and she refused to give him an answer.

"I'll bet I can figure it out. You did this…" Damon swept aside the crotch of her panties, sliding a finger to tease at the entrance of her heat. "Isn't that right, Bonnie?"

"Mm…"

"Answer please."

"Yes."

He smirked whispering wickedly, "Thought so. After teasing yourself, did you dip your finger into this honeyed entrance?" Plunging that teasing finger into her was almost their undoing.

Bonnie released a low moan as her knees buckled, refusing to support her while Damon's eyes crossed at the heat of her and her unexpected response. She involuntarily spasmed clenching his finger in a grip so hot and tight, Damon had to restrain himself from taking her against the wall. Slowly, he eased his finger in and out, coaxing more of her liquid response. Bonnie's hips began moving to follow his finger.

"Jesus, Bonnie! I'm going to take the edge off for you, then I have to get you upstairs." Continuing the movements of his finger, he moved his thumb to press lightly at the bundle of nerves sure to set her off. Taking her mouth again, Bonnie's moans went breathy as Damon's teasing strokes against her clit became more sure. Bonnie ground herself shamelessly against his hand and erection, disengaging from his mouth again to try to gain control of her body's reaction to Damon's ministrations.

"Damon…" she breathed heavily.

"Bonnie!" he gritted out.

"Uhn?"

"Shut up and let go." His stroke against her flesh grew more intent.

"I-oh…" she shook her head from side to side, insensible.

"Come for me, Bonnie!" he commanded.

"DAMON!" Bonnie, strung tight like a bow, was released by Damon, and learned to fly.

Bonnie vacillated back and forth between breathing hard and giggling like a loon. Holding a hand to her chest, she struggled to rein in her emotions and quivering body.

Damon disengaged his hand from her, drawing out a moan from her, and smiled at her, his expression somehow both tender and smug.

He held his glistening hand in front of her face, then licked his fingers, holding her eyes. He moaned in appreciation of the taste of her nectar. Bonnie's breath caught in her throat.

"Are you alright?" he asked knowing full well the answer.

"If I felt any better, it'd be a crime." She chuckled, setting her pants to rights.

"Then get ready to do some time. We're not done yet. Not by a damned sight, Bonnie." He said, pupils bleeding dark in the flickering glow of the firelight.

Pushing herself away from the wall, she said, "I need some air," and moved to leave the room.

"You wouldn't make it to the car," Damon ground out huskily. "Upstairs. Now." He lightly smacked her ass.

"But…"

"I'll be there in a minute. I need to bank this fire. Then, I'll see to stoking yours," he waggled his eyebrows playfully.

"Jeez! Alright, Damon!" she stomped away and up the stairs towards his room.

Pausing at the door of his room, she lifted a trembling hand to the intricately carved solid wood. _I'm shaking! Get it together, Bonnie, it's just sex. For him, for you._Laying her forehead on the door, she thought, _who am I kidding? Being with Damon will change_everything _for me. I can't come back to this town anymore. I won't see Elena, Stefan,_him _or any of my friends again._

Bonnie began to have a mini-panic, her breathing borderline hyperventilation. She thought about all her hard-won self control and how it was crumbling about her. _I can't, I can't do this!_

Suddenly, the air about her shifted and she stilled like prey not wanting to alert the predator to prey.

Damon whispered behind her, near the back of her neck, sending spinal shivers through her, "Breathe, Bonnie."

He wrapped her in his arms from behind and asked, "Does the idea of my touching you distress you so badly?"

Bonnie leaned into him. Breathing calmed, she answered, "No, Damon. Your touch soothes me and makes me hunger, wanting things I shouldn't be reaching for. I can't think when you touch me, even the most innocent of brushes against you have driven me near-insane." Dragging another deep breath, she sighed, "Yet another reason for that spell."

Damon smiled into her hair. "I'm irresistible." He parted the hair away from her skin and laid a tender kiss at the top base of her neck.

"Elena manages quite fine," she stated. "You know, I've asked her about that and she seemed to think that any woman with enough willpower could do it, except for me. She said that I was 'hardwired and programmed' to respond to you."

He thought a moment. "Did she, now?"

Bonnie turned in his arms, with a look of frustration. "Yes."

Damon smiled lazily. "That's why you're still untouched? I know you must've been on dates."

She rolled her eyes at him, "I'm not a troll, Damon. Yes, I've been on dates. Yes, men have kissed me, but I felt nothing. There was no spark, no life, nothing in their passion that matched what I felt whenever you'd merely _look_ at me."

His heart and ego soared. "Is that right?"

Bonnie suddenly had a thought. "Maybe, if we just get it over with, I can move on and respond to other males," she said a flicker of hope lighting her eyes.

Damon countenance grew dark, making her look at him. "I don't think so."

"I think it's a perfectly valid hypothesis."

Damon frowned, showing his displeasure. "What makes you think I'd let you go once I've had you? Now that I've gotten my full faculties restored, I don't intend to give you up."

"But-"

Damon smiled, making her a vow. "Get used to your new station, cupcake. I fully intend to _destroy_ you for other men."

Bonnie quirked an eyebrow. "Well, hell..."

He leaned into her, taking her mouth. It was more a branding than a kiss. It captured, compelled and obliterated her will to naysay him at every turn.

Damon pushed the door open, walking her backwards into the lair of his rooms.

Bonnie moaned when he released her lips. Tilting her head back, he swooped in to pepper kisses down the column of her graceful neck. As the back of her legs hit the bed, she took a moment to absorb the reality of where she was, what she and Damon were engaged in.

She had a fleeting thought. _Step into my parlor said the spider to the fly._ "No, that's not right," she murmured.

"What?" he said, intent on her making love to her neck.

"Just wool-gathering about this situation. A particular quote springs to mind. 'Lead me not into temptation-'"

"'…I can find the way myself.'" Damon chuckled.

"Didn't know you were a fan of Rita Mae Brown."

"I'm not. I'm just all about temptation and things forbidden."

Damon resumed his assault on her neck and mouth. His hands reached for the bottom of her t-shirt, sliding his hands and the soft material up her sides and over her head. Clad in black bra, he took a moment to lean back and stare at what he'd accomplished. "Beautiful." He muttered, tracing a finger over the edge of her where she and her bra met, mesmerized the contrast of black satin of the undergarment and her heated sienna-hued skin. He replaced his questing fingers with his mouth, searing her breasts with almost frenzied caresses. Bonnie threaded her fingers through his tousled mane, arching into his mouth.

"You taste like nothing I've experienced." He moaned, reveling in finally being able to touch and taste her with the full benefit of his senses aiding him.

His fingers questing lower, undoing the fastenings of her pants. His mouth journeyed south, alternately kissing and gently nipping. Dropping to his knees, Damon simultaneously glided his hands and denim down her shapely legs.

"Lift your foot," he requested. As she complied, Damon he released one foot then the other sliding the garment off and tossing it aside. He took a moment to run his hands up and down her legs, sensually caressing her, as if committing her form to memory.

"Damon," Bonnie pleaded taking him from his reverie.

"I can't wait to get between these thighs," he sighed lustfully.

He leaned forward, laying his head on the fabric of her panties. Lifting his mouth, his kissed her over top of the soaked scrap of fabric. Watching his ministrations, something in Bonnie melted.

Reaching up behind her back, he swiftly and with practiced fingers, undid the hooks of her bra, pulling the garment down and off her arms. Focusing on her panties, he made quick work and slid those off, too.

Damon rocked back on heels and stood abruptly to take her in. As he lifted his eyes his heart stuttered, and found himself nearly salivating at his first true view of his Bonnie in all her glory.

Bonnie's face grew heated as her feelings of vulnerability surfaced. In a feeble attempt to avoid his scrutiny, she shook her hair forward, crossed an arm over her chest and covered her feminine mound with her free hand.

"Surely you can't be embarrassed possessing a body like that," he drawled in disbelief, reaching to remove her hands.

Shifting away from hands, Bonnie narrowed his eyes at him. "Surely, you're not that obtuse…I've never been naked in front of anyone of the opposite sex before."

Clasping his hands behind him, Damon mused, "It's been a long time since I've done any deflowering." Walking towards his chest of drawers, he opened one, hands searching for something. His next words were near whisper-soft.

"Let's try something."

"What?" she asked in an equally curious and distrusting voice.

Ghosting behind her, he whispered "Close your eyes."

Bonnie thought. _Let's see: bigger, stronger, faster and he hasn't hurt me yet. I can still call up fire at will and flambé his balls._

Bonnie complied with misgivings.

Damon reached around, covering eyes with a red silk scarf. Instantly, as if she were a hooded and jessed falcon, she stilled, regaining a sense of equilibrium. "Oh," she whispered in relief. Damon smiled to himself.

Guiding her by her shoulders and nudging her with his hips, Damon led her over to an oval-shaped antique floor-length mirror. He stood behind her and ran his hands across her arms. "Let go, Bonnie."

She complied almost immediately, dropping her hands at her sides.

Damon got his first full unimpeded view of Bonnie in the mirrored reflection, a hiss of male appreciation leaving his full lips. All that glossy black hair twisted and fell in familiar curls down her back, framing her glorious curves. Beaded nipples the color of rich dark chocolate topped high, full breasts. The rest of her skin looked as if she'd been carved of caramel, buffed to a high sheen and dusted with golden powder. A small waist flared into generous hips which framed her center, which was covered only by a trimmed finger width strip of hair. Her long legs contained the delicate strength firmness of her thighs and calves.

Moving her head back to rest on his shoulders, he remarked "You're exquisite, Bonnie." He leaned over dropping a chaste kiss on one bare shoulder and moved his hands to her hips.

"Put your hands directly on top of mine and move with me," he said. When she covered his hands with hers, he flexed his fingers and began to move them in soothing circles and sweeping caresses over the top half of her body. Together, they explored her arms, the hollows of her neck. Bonnie moaned, giving him more of her weight.

Damon moved his hands lightly across her nipples and Bonnie trembled. Doing it again, he asked, "Do you like that?"

"Yes," she whimpered.

He continued to deliberately toy with her nipples until they pebbled into impossible stiffness.

Moving their hands to sweep in downward and upward strokes across her belly and thighs, Bonnie's breathing became shallow.

"You are sinfully, silky soft every-damned-where," he remarked in wonderment.

"I know," she answered smugly. "Moisturi…ooh!" Damon's fingertips brushed against her mons. One hand continued, traveling towards her clit.

"You were saying?" she could hear the smirk in his question.

"Nothing of consequence. Don't stop, Damon."

"I don't think anything on earth could stop this tonight," he confirmed, tongue skating about her shoulder, the fingers of one hand stroking her bundle of nerves.

Bonnie lifted one hand to brace herself and wound her other arm about his neck, grasping his head. Angling her neck back, she kissed his neck and moaned into his ear.

Damon moved his free hand to cover her heated entrance, then plunged a finger into her silken wet folds. Her cry of 'yes' filled his ears as she undulated and rocked her hips towards his knowledgeable hands. Her unconscious movements rubbed against his aching shaft, driving him to distraction. Fingers grasped him, leaving indentations in the flesh of his arm and neck. Rubbing her bud more insistently, he wrung a wail from her throat, signaling her impending release.

Using his teeth, he ripped away the blindfold and hissed, "Look at you, Bonnie. Look at us!"

Opening her eyes, she gasped at the tableau before her. Giving a final shout of "Yes!" she came hard in his hands and fell apart in his arms.

Murmuring nonsensical things to her, he picked her shuddering body up, cradled her to his chest and walked over to his bed laying her gently down. Pausing to shed his silken pants, he quickly covered her body with his own.

Eyes closed, Bonnie struggled to get hold of her breathing. Opening her eyes, she looked directly into his and said, "Wow. That's all I've got. Just…wow."

Damon's eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave a full laugh. "There's more where that came from."

"I don't think I can take anymore. You're going to orgasm me into flat-lining. Have fun explaining that one to your brother and Elena."

"Nah," he countered, "I'd just turn you and we'll be able to pleasure ourselves into oblivion or eternity, whichever comes first."

She arched an eyebrow "Would that make me a vitch, then?"

He zeroed in on her neck again, raining kisses there then across her collarbone, eliciting gasps from her. "Don't know, don't care. Gotta have you, Bonnie."

Damon molded her firm breasts with his hands, moving his head to one nipple. Rubbing his cheek across it, Bonnie whimpered, then moaned as hip lips took it into his mouth. His suckled and licked, mimicking the pressure with a hand on her other nipple. Bonnie ran her hands along his shoulders and back, kneading his flesh and at times digging in. Her hips writhed of their own accord underneath the weight of his body. Mouth leaving her nipples, he kissed a hot, wet trail down her abdomen to her hot center, meeting closed thighs. Slipping a hand, in between her legs, he lifted his head. "Bonnie." She raised her head, to meet his eyes in a questioning glance. "Lift your knees." Blushing to her roots, she said nothing, yet complied. Dimpled knees lifted, then opened slowly as he worked his torso in between her legs. Sliding a hand underneath her ass and placing a steadying one on her pelvis, he licked his lips in anticipation and lowered his head to her heat, eyes holding her gaze captive during the entire exchange.

He watched as Bonnie's lips formed a small 'O' of surprise and let her head fall back to absorb the entirely new sensations.

Damon's mouth covered her entirely. Focusing on her opening, he gently tongued her, coaxing more of her essence from her body.

_Tastes like ambrosia made to my specifications._

Bonnie' hips moved of their own accord, trying to get closer to Damon's wicked mouth. She reached out her hands to once again touch his hair, urging him closer, harder, faster. Damon smiled into her and moved to place two fingers at her weeping entrance moving his tongue to focus on her swollen clit. Flicking her with his tongue, then soothing with slow caresses, drove Bonnie to near insensibility. Her core emitted another offering of heated liquid.

"Damon, PLEASE!"

He reared up suddenly, placing his erection at her entrance, leaning over her to gaze into her face. Bonnie's hips moved up, just as he moved to fill her in one smooth thrust.

Bonnie opened her eyes to look at Damon. His eyes, bled to back, as he growled out, "Mine!"

Reaching a hand up to stroke his face and soothe his beast, she nodded "Yours."

Closing his eyes, he muttered, "So damned good, so fucking _tight_."

Bonnie squirmed beneath him, trying to get him to move. "Move, Damon."

He gritted out, "Trying to give you a moment here, Bonnie."

"Fuck me, Damon," her voice was a sultry demand.

Damon's eyes crossed and he complied with her will. "As you wish."

Agonizingly slow, he pulled almost all the way free of her grasping entrance before thrusting to the hilt, reveling in the velvet feel of her heat. As he continued to do the same for a time, her hips echoed his movements; Bonnie mewled with each retreat and emitted a guttural, satisfied, "yes" each time their hips fused together.

In time, Bonnie demanded more, telling him vividly what she'd do to him if he didn't speed up and stop teasing her. He speeded his thrusts accordingly, smiling at the minx he'd released.

Their breathing became shallow as their frenzied hips kissed violently in their quest to reach release.

"Bonnie, look at me." Coppery-green orbs clashed with ice-blue ones. "What?" she nearly screamed in frustration.

Damon smiled, never break his pace. "Who am I?"

Bonnie's look turned incredulous, "You can't be fucking serious!"

Damon would not be dissuaded. He thrust home again. "Say it!"

Bonnie raked her nails across his back and shrieked, "I'm Bonnie, you're Damon, you're fucking me, I'm yours, no one else's!"

"Good girl. Now come!" Damon ordered, lifting a hand to manipulate her clit, spilling Bonnie over her precipice with a strident cry of "Damon, Damon, shit!"

He gave several final, near-bruising thrusts, and spilled himself into her grasping sheath.

Some minutes later, cuddling together underneath the sheets, Damon was contemplative.

Twirling one of her dark locks around his finger, he mused "Maybe that spell wasn't such a bad idea after all. You never would've finished high school if we'd started this ten years ago."

Bonnie, hoarse from their earlier activities, chuckled dryly in agreement. "You think?"

Somebody's knockin'

Should I let him in

Lord it's the devil

Would you look at him

I've heard about him

But I never dreamed

He'd have blue eyes and blue jeans

Well somebody's talkin'

He's whispering to me

Your place or my place

Well, which will it be

I'm gettin' weaker

And he's comin' on strong

But I don't wanna go wrong

He must have tapped my telephone line

He must have known

I'm spendin' my time

Alone

He says we'll have one heavenly night

My fever's burnin'

So he ought be right at home

"Somebody's Knockin'" by Terri Gibbs (1981)


End file.
